


Barmaid

by copper_wasp



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Awkward Flirting, Blow Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, French Kissing, Hurt/Comfort, I Also Tried Some Action, I Tried Some Plot, Making Love, Porn With Plot, Reader Kicks Some Demon Ass, Slow-ish burn, This Went On For Far Too Long Sorry Folks, Vaginal Fingering, light teasing, please just take this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-11 23:12:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18434087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copper_wasp/pseuds/copper_wasp
Summary: You noticed him as soon as he walked through the front door to your bar.





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> This... is possibly the longest thing I have ever written that wasn't a college assignment. I am not usually amazing at plot, so fair warning there may be holes or general weirdness.
> 
> (Just a little FYI, I wrote this as if the Reader and others who live in her town do not know who Dante is or what he does, and they also don't know that there are demons that sometimes cross over into the human realm at inopportune moments.)
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy 💖
> 
> *Edited 4/14/19 - added epilogue  
> *Edited 4/20/19 - small spelling/grammar fixes

You noticed him as soon as he walked through the front door to your bar. The Sharpshooter, you called it, after Annie Oakley, one of your personal heroes. The kitschy shit you called decor reflected the name, portraits of the exhibition shooter herself, old, half-rotted shotguns and rifles tacked up with rivets, and weathered letterpress posters littered the deep red walls. You were no Annie, but you knew your way around a gun.

You had worked your ass off for years to get this bar, scraping together every penny from waitressing and running a hotel’s front desk in order to have something to call your own. The space was small, with a sturdy, wooden bar against one wall, some high top tables and stools against another, a small stage in the back corner, a shoebox of a kitchen and a combination office/storeroom/everything room to round it out. It wasn’t fancy, and it wasn’t big, but it was _yours_.

It was around nine on a Friday night, and the bar was packed. You had been called out from the office to assist when your frazzled, tiny bartender Milly practically begged for your help. You didn’t mind serving a few drinks. Most of your patrons were nice and respectful and tipped well, and it felt nice to get out of the stuffy, windowless office.

You closed and locked the office door behind you, walking the short distance to get behind the bar, and you immediately zeroed in on the man’s shock of chin length silvery-grey hair. He was wearing a ridiculous red leather coat, but it suited him somehow. Paired with a soft looking black shirt, form fitting black pants and motorcycle boots, he looked like the guy that starred in every wet dream you’d ever had.

The unfamiliar man grabbed the last spot open at the bar, right on the end, and you eyed him briefly from the opposite side of the bar before strolling over.

You stopped in front of him, leaning forward and curling your fingers over the lip of the bar top. “What can I get you, stranger?”

He looked up at you with a kind smile, “Not sure, what’s good?”

“Hmm,” you began, taking the opportunity to get a good ogle in at his face. The man is _very_ handsome, like stupidly handsome, with a well defined jawline and a straight nose that you couldn’t help but envy. Silver stubble graced his chin and the space above a pair of soft looking lips, which were still quirked up at one corner. His most striking features, though, were his eyes; a super bright, clear blue, even in the dim light of the bar.

“You look like a whiskey type of guy, and I’ve got a new bottle of Jack Daniel’s that’s calling your name,” you finished, grabbing the bottle from the counter behind you. He laughed softly as you grabbed a glass and began to pour out a couple fingers.

“You read my mind,” he replied as you splashed just a bit of water into the glass before sliding it over to him on a napkin.

“It’s my hidden talent.”

He tipped the glass at you in a sort of salute before he took a sip, face not betraying any of the burn from the whiskey. You were about to ask for his name when one of your waitresses nearly bowled you over when she ran behind the bar.

“Oh thank goodness, [Y/N],” she panted. “Can you help me? I need two Old Fashioneds, a White Russian and four Sam Adams drafts.” She dumped her armful of dirty glasses into a bin behind the bar and running off before you could even reply. You shook your head, tucking your hair behind your ear before getting started on the order.

“Coming right up, Jean,” you mumbled, muddling the sugar and butters. “No, sweetie, you don’t have to say please and thank you, I’m not your boss or anything, just order me around. Shit, she didn’t tell me what brand of bourbon....” You looked over at the mystery man, who seemed to have watched you conversing with yourself with amusement.

“What’s so funny?” you asked him, smiling as you hung the customary orange peel on the rim of the glass.

“I didn’t say a word,” he smirked, downing the last of his whiskey.

“You want another?” you asked, starting on the White Russian.

“If you don’t get bowled over by another of your employees, sure.”

“Coming right up,” you replied, chuckling a bit as you finished Jean’s drinks, plopping the full glasses down on a tray. Materializing out of nowhere, the lanky woman pulled the tray off the bar top, giving you a withering look.

“Thank you, [Y/N],” she said, placing her free hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, look, you do have manners!” you chided, giving her a big grin.

“Yeah, yeah, you try taking care of all these hipster douchebags,” she replied, scurrying off with the tray. You barked out a laugh, grabbing the Jack off the shelf again.

“So, you don’t seem like you’re from here,” you commented, pouring a generous serving of the sweet smelling liquor into his glass. “Can I ask for your name?”

“Dante. And you’d be right, I’m not.”

You held out your hand to him, “I’m [Y/N]. Though you probably figured that out already from my staff.” He grasped your hand firmly.

“Pleasure to meet you, [Y/N],” he said. “So you’re the owner, then?”

“Why yes, I am the proprietor of this fine drinking establishment,” you replied in as grandiose a manner as you could manage. He smiled at you.

“Nice place,” he commented, swirling the alcohol in his glass.

“Thanks,” you replied, a bit of pride blooming in your chest, “This little dive is my baby,” you finished, slapping your palm on the bar. You wanted to talk with him longer, but throngs of waiting bar patrons were calling, and you found yourself roped into making more drinks. You mentally scolded yourself for continuing to steal glances at him as you made your drinks, because somehow he would manage to catch your eye every time he caught you staring. Distracted, you managed to make a Manhattan with vodka, and a Dirty Martini without the dirt.

You cursed lowly under your breath and saw him grin into his glass, before tipping his head back to swallow the last dregs of alcohol within it.

“ _God dammit, [Y/N], get ahold of yourself! Yeah, he is hotter than a tin roof on a sunny day, but you BARELY know his name, let alone anything else about him,”_ you thought, dumping the messed up drinks into the bar sink.

After serving a few more customers, you could see the crowd was starting to die down. Milly looked less flustered than before and graciously urged you away from the bar. You walked over to Dante, who was swirling his fingertip around the rim of his glass.

“Can I get you anything else?” you asked, grabbing a glass and filling it with seltzer for yourself.

“No thanks, I’ve gotta take off, actually. What do I owe you?”

You mentally slapped yourself for being disappointed that he was leaving. “That’ll be $14,” you said and he pressed a $20 onto the bar. “Change?”

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks for the entertainment, doll,” he replied, standing up to leave.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, because this weird, rapid obsession was getting goddamn ridiculous, but you blurted out, “We’re having a local band play tomorrow at 10... uh, if you’ll still be in town... and uh, if you like? Uhh, music?” You imagined the look on your face was a cross between utter embarrassment and a hint of nausea when your brain was finally able to stop your mouth from speaking.

He licked his bottom lip before smiling at you again. “I’ll try to stop by, as I will still be in town and I do like music,” he said to you, chuckling a little at the end.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “Okay, well now that I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself, have a great night, stranger,” you said, quickly turning on your heel and scurrying off before he could see your flushed face.

 

The office was gloriously close, doorknob just a few feet away from your grabbing hands when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Milly wearing the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

“Milly, please, don’t...” you whined, trying to shuffle the short remaining distance to the office door. She pushed you the rest of the way there, and followed you into the room, closing the door and pressing her back against it. You plopped down on your desk chair, refusing to look at her.

“What was that!?” she practically yelled, barely holding in her laughter.

“I DON’T KNOW!” you cried, dramatically letting your head fall onto your desk.

“When was the last time you flirted with a guy?” she asked, sitting in the only other chair in the room.

“Oh, jeez, I don’t even remember. It’s just been me making bedroom eyes at the bar for the past three years...” you trailed off, glancing over at her.

“I mean, did you find him that attractive that your brain just short circuited?”

“...That seems like a logical explanation,” you sighed, resting your head on your palm.

“Well I guess I can’t blame you entirely,” Milly started, picking at her nails. “I don’t usually go for older guys, but I would climb him like a tree.”

“Milly!” you said, gobsmacked. “I’m telling your boyfriend you said that!”

“Oh, please, boss. Just because I’m on a diet, doesn’t mean I can’t look at the menu,” she said cheerfully, practically skipping out of the office.

* * *

It was about a quarter till 10, Saturday night. You were in the back by the stage, making sure everything was set for the band, a little Indie-Rock three piece called ‘Nine Lives’. They were squeezed onto the stage, but all of them were smiling and excited to play.

“All right guys, let me know if you need anything else, ok? When you want to start, come grab me and I’ll introduce you.” They nodded, turning their attention back to their instruments. You turned around to walk over to the bar, and on the first step you collided with someone who had stepped up behind you.

“Oh, god, sorry!” you blurted, grabbing onto the lapels of the person’s jacket to try to regain your balance. Sturdy hands grasped your shoulders to steady you, and you finally looked up and saw that they belonged to Dante, who was looking down at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. You felt your face immediately get hot and you released your grip on his coat.

“Hey there, doll,” he said, hands still on your shoulders.

“Hey,” you replied, smiling back at him. “You made it.”

He moved his hands off your shoulders, dragging them slowly down your arms before letting them drop to his sides. “Yeah, I found some time.”

“Well, looks like there’s a seat at the bar with your name on it,” you offered, starting to walk over. “The band’s just about to start.”

The singer walked up to you, letting you know that they were ready, and you headed back over towards the stage. You saw Milly enthusiastically take Dante’s drink order, giving you a huge, embarrassing thumbs up when she saw you looking.

Rolling your eyes, you stepped up onto the stage. “Good evening everyone, thanks so much for joining us tonight! I’m so proud to introduce our entertainment for the evening, ‘Nine Lives!’” you paused, allowing for a few enthusiastic shouts and applause. “Make sure you all grab a drink!” you concluded, stepping away from the stage.

The band started playing before you got back to the bar, the space filled with the singer’s crooning tenor. You grabbed your glass of seltzer and leaned on the bar next to where Dante was sitting. You glanced at Milly, who grinned a mile wide at you while sliding a cocktail over to a customer. You shook your head at her and took a sip of your drink.

Dante watched the exchange with a small smile before turning in his seat to face you.

“Band’s not bad,” he remarked, trying to catch your eye. After another moment of making out with your glass, you turned your head to look over at him. He looked as lovely and wet-dream inducing as he had the previous night, and you swallowed your seltzer a little bit awkwardly, coughing. “You ok?” He asked, touching your shoulder gently, and you could’ve sworn the spot where he touched you burst into flames.

“Yes, I’m good, thanks,” you said, laughing. “Nine Lives is pretty popular, they’ve played here a few times before.” He nodded in understanding, drinking deeply from his glass. You noticed it was a Manhattan he was imbibing, and you wondered if he was teasing you from your vodka mishap the night before.

“I’m, uh, glad I didn’t scare you away with my painfully awkward self,” you said sheepishly, rubbing at the condensation on your glass with a fingertip.

He smirked again, placing his glass down on the bar. “You didn’t. And your bartender sure likes to talk you up,” he replied. “She apologized for you a few times.”

“Jesus Christ, Milly,” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes so hard you were sure you pulled a muscle. “Be right back,” you told Dante, walking behind the bar to refill your glass. You stalked behind the short girl who was flirting with a suit at the bar and pinched her side, making her yelp and tip over the glass of ice she had prepared.

“What was that for?” she asked, appalled.

“You know what you did!” you replied, pointing an accusatory finger at her. She looked over your shoulder, most definitely making eye contact with Dante, and you stepped into her line of vision.

“Relax, boss lady, he’s been smiling at you since he walked through the door,” she commented, dropping a new scoop of ice into the glass. You flushed and she giggled, finishing the suit’s drink and passing it to him. She pocketed the large tip he pressed into her hand before gesturing towards Dante with her head. “You may want to get back over there, I wouldn’t leave him by himself too long or someone else might swoop in...” she trailed off, turning to serve another customer.

You turned back around, seeing that his attention was focused on the band. He was tapping his finger on the side of his glass, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Oh boy, you’ve got it bad. The crush to end all crushes. Crush at first sight?

 _“All right, [Y/N], just relax. Be yourself. Ok, maybe not entirely yourself because you are a train wreck when it comes to flirting, but be mostly yourself,”_ you thought lamely, figuring that was possibly the most mediocre pep talk to have ever been given.

“So I have to ask,” you began, leaning over the bar across from him. He turned his face back to meet yours, nodding for you to continue. “Is that hair color of yours natural?”

He let out a charming laugh, running a hand through those silvery locks. “Is yours?” he replied, gesturing towards your dyed purple hair.

“Oh no! How could you tell?” you said lowly, leaning closer to him over the bar top. “I thought it looked so real.” You flicked the wavy strands over your shoulder, beaming at the man.

“The color suits you, I like it,” he said, breaking eye contact for just a moment. You found your face burning again at the compliment. “But yeah, mine’s natural.”

“Well I must say you are looking really good for being an 80-year-old man.”

He feigned a hurt expression, “That was a low blow. Already teasing me when we only just met yesterday...” he sighed dramatically. “I guess I’ll just have to drink away my sorrows,” he said, throwing his head back to down the rest of his liquor. Like a telepathic ninja, Milly slid another Manhattan in front of him, grinning.

“On the house, hot stuff,” she said, winking at him before quickly scurrying off and busying herself at the opposite end of the bar.

“On the house? Can she do that?” he asked you, pulling the straw out of the glass.

“I’ll give you that one out of the kindness of my heart,” you teased, taking a sip of your own drink, your other hand placed gently on your chest.

“So you’re beautiful and generous, then.”

You promptly choked on your seltzer. Dante was behind you in an instant, gently tapping on your back and grabbing your glass out of your hand before directing you to take his vacated seat. After catching your breath, you dropped your head to the bar, completely flushed with embarrassment.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing soothing circles on your upper back.

“Uh-uh,” you replied, shaking your head.

“Come on, look at me.”

You slowly, ever so slowly, lifted your head up to meet his eyes. He leaned in, placing your glass down resting his hand on the bar in front of you. 

“I’m sorry, I swear I don’t usually make women choke on their drinks,” he said softly, right near your ear so you could still hear him over the band.

You scrunched your face, eyes drifting to his smiling mouth. “No need to apologize, I am just a disaster. I can’t remember the last time someone said I was beautiful, jeez, it’s probably been since I moved here.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“Oh man, something like, ten years now? I think. Bar’s only been open for three, two years were spent deciding what I wanted to do, and the other five were just me scrimping and saving every penny I could,” you said, pushing yourself around on the stool to survey your bar.

“Well what made you want to move here in the first place? If you don’t mind me asking?”

You were about to answer when you realized that you were having an actual conversation with this man. With Dante. Just a stranger yesterday and today talking like you were old friends. Well, maybe not quite friends, just yet. At least acquaintances.

Nine Lives had just finished a song to a round of applause. The singer thanked the crowd before immediately diving into their next tune.

“I, um, moved here for... a guy,” you answered bashfully, closing your eyes. Before you looked over at him again to gauge his reaction, you said, “I know what you’re thinking. I was very young and very stupid.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone was like that at some point,” he said reassuringly.

“I’m surprised you can even remember your youth, old man,” you joked, raising your eyebrows at him. He looked at you for a long moment, but any awkwardness you may have felt from his gentle scrutiny was nonexistent.

“Not sure you should be making fun of me, considering you’re the girl who can’t even manage to drink water,” he replied with a grin.

“Hey, that was _seltzer_ , mister. I’ve got class, you know.” The two of you shared a laugh followed by a moment of comfortable silence.

“So,” he began, tapping a finger on the bar.“What did this guy promise you to get you here?”

You smoothed a hand over your hair. “Oh, the usual - a house, two cars, a golden retriever and maybe some kids at some point. I was fully expecting to marry that guy, and we ended up calling it quits 3 months after I moved here. I had spent any money I had just getting here, so I figured I’d try to make the best of it since I was already here. I was also far too stubborn to turn tail and have to face my mother again.”

“I think you’ve definitely made the best of it.”

“Yeah, me too,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. “So, why are you here?” you asked him after a moment. “This town seems a little small for you.”

He paused as if he was carefully choosing his words. “I’m here for work,” he finally answered, shifting his feet a bit. You waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent.

You raised your hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, stranger, I gotcha.” When he didn’t reply with another quip, you turned in your stool to face him. His demeanor had completely changed; his eyes were trained on the front door, brows furrowed. There was tension in his shoulders and he was biting his bottom lip a little bit. “Dante?” you said, trying to get his attention.

He shook his head slightly, grabbing onto your hand. “I’m sorry, [Y/N], but I’ve gotta go.” He pushed himself away from the bar, dropping your hand back into your lap. “I’ll come back, I promise. Can you start a tab for me?”

“Uh, sure, I can. But Dante, is everything all right?” you asked, thoroughly confused. “Did I say something stupid? Or rather more stupid than what I normally say?”

“No, no way. You were - well, you were great.” He grabbed both of your hands this time, and you noticed just how warm his skin was. “I swear this isn’t you, I just really have to take off. I’ll see you around, okay?”

You nodded, reveling in the feeling of his hands touching yours. He released your hands again, and was out the front door so quickly you swore he teleported. Blinking, you stood up and walked behind the bar, depositing the two empty glasses in a plastic bin.

Milly trotted over to you as you straightened some bottles on the back counter. “Aw, where did Silver Fox run off to?”

“I have no idea, he just said he had to go and took off,” you paused, shrugging. “He did say it wasn’t me, though, but I’m not sure if I believe him.”

“Oh, it was _totally_ you,” she deadpanned, trying to hide a giggle.

Your mouth dropped open in mock offense. “I can’t believe you just said that to me. Your ass is so fired!”

“Sure, boss. Whatever you say!”


	2. The Middle Bit

Dante didn’t come back that night or the next, or the next. Or any other night for the next two weeks. At this point, your paranoid mind convinced you that he was avoiding you. Milly tried to tell you otherwise, but you shrugged her encouragement off. Eventually, you stopped constantly looking at the door on the nights you were there and refocused your attention on the bar, just a little disappointed.

The mystery man was the closest thing you’d had to a romantic prospect in _years_ , besides a couple of questionable one night stands, and two months of dating a 35-year-old guy who you found out later still lived with his parents and a large collection of swords. You tried telling yourself that his absence wasn’t a big deal, but your stupid heart kept him on your mind.

 

Saturday night rolled around again, and you were making sure the karaoke machine was set up and ready to go. Having a karaoke night brought in so many people, but it was also the worst invention ever, so you balanced your inflated profits and your complete hatred of it by only pulling it out on the first Saturday of the month.

Milly’s boyfriend Ben was manning the registration list, happily chatting to the (mostly college-aged) patrons signing up for their songs. You were on bar duty with Milly, draft beers and cocktails flowing. Even though you normally dreaded karaoke night, your mood was insanely good, and the wad of tips shoved into your back pocket was proof of that.

After about another half hour of serving drinks, Ben, your makeshift emcee, tapped on the microphone to ask the first singer to step up to the stage. You nudged Milly with your elbow as she finished passing a couple beers over the bar.

“What do you think? How many ‘Wonderwalls’ will we get tonight?” you asked her, fixing yourself a gin and tonic.

“Well, judging by how much flannel I see, I’d say at least half a dozen.”

You barked out a laugh, moving to the end of the bar with her. The first singer, a tall emo-looking guy, starting warbling out something that could maybe be considered a Beatles song in an alternate universe.

The night was in full swing, you were on your third cocktail, which you didn’t normally do, and that pleasant buzzed feeling was flowing through your veins. The last singer, and you used that term incredibly loosely, finished up ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ to raucous drunken applause. Ben took the mic from her and helped her off the stage before taking her place.

“Now everyone, we’ve got one more singer for you tonight, but it may take some convincing to get her up here. It’s been a long time since she graced the stage, so can we get the loudest, most obnoxious round of applause for our amazing owner, [Y/N]!”

You froze with your glass halfway up to your mouth, eyes widening in horror. You whipped your head to look at Milly, fully prepared to chew her out, only to find that she was nowhere to be found, having most likely squirreled herself away somewhere out of your line of rage. Clever girl.

Ben was walking towards you and you desperately looked for an exit, but there was no way you could make it to the door with the sheer number of people in the bar tonight. He traded your glass for the wireless mic and gave you a pleading look.

Hearing a few whistles and cheers from the crowd, you looked up at the ceiling. You sighed loudly, giving in. “Fine, Ben, queue up my song,” you said into the mic, making your way to the stage. You cleared your throat and shook out some nervousness in your shoulders. What you didn’t notice was the silver-haired man who had walked through the front door and was making his way to the bar.

“Tonight, I’m gonna have myself a real good time, I feel ali-ah-ah-ive... and the world, I’ll turn it inside out, yeah, floating around in ecstasy, so-“ you crooned, motioning to the crowd to sing along with you. “Don’t - stop - me - now. Don’t stop me, ‘cause I’m having a good time, having a good time~”

Now that you were on the stage, you let yourself go, trying your best to not insult Freddie with your singing.

Your three and a half minutes ended, and you handed the mic back to Ben, who closed out the night with a few sentences. Milly met you at the bar with a glass of water, complete and utter glee on her face.

 

“Ah! You were so good! It’s been so long since I’ve heard you sing and I just couldn’t resist!”

“You are really fired this time,” you said, failing to suppress a giggle.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on her, I enjoyed listening to you sing too,” said a voice over your shoulder. You turned, meeting bright blue eyes with your [E/C] ones. “Plus, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get the image of your hips moving like that out of my head.”

“Dante?” you asked, smiling broadly, face rapidly flushing a bright red.

“That’s me,” he replied with a chuckle, pulling you in for a hug. You eagerly responded by linking your arms around him, breathing in the leather scent of his coat. “Sorry for skipping out on you last time,” he said lowly, mouth right near your ear, and you couldn’t help the pleasant shiver that ran from your neck all the way down to your toes.

“That’s ok,” you said, releasing him. “You’re here now, and just watched me get really, embarrassingly into Queen.”

He laughed genuinely, and you wanted to savor that sound forever. “It was a pretty great air guitar solo,” he remarked, causing you to chuckle.

You sat down at an open barstool and parted the one next to you with your hand for Dante to take. He ordered a beer from Milly and immediately launched into conversation with you. It was cliche, but you couldn’t help but think about how easy it was to talk with him. He had a sense of humor, wasn’t easily offended, and genuinely listened when you spoke, which was nearly a miracle compared to some guys you dated.

You had completely sobered up by the time you glanced at your watch, the face reading 1:52 am. Wait, 1:52 am?? Oh, shit! The bar was about to close and you hadn’t done _anything_. Only then did you look around and realize that the rest of the bar was completely empty, tables wiped down and floor swept.

“Hey boss, we’re gonna take off, ok?” Milly said, appearing from the hallway leading to the kitchen. She slipped her coat on, Ben waiting at her side.

“Oh, god, Milly - what else needs to be done for closing? I’m so sorry, I completely lost track of time....I blame you,” you said jokingly, turning and pointing at Dante.

He smirked back at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can’t help that you’re completely enthralled with me,” he replied, grinning. You rolled you eyes and tried to hide the blush spreading on your cheeks as you looked back to Milly, who had the biggest shit-eating grin on her face.

“Nothing, Jean and I took care of it. I even got Ben to run a few loads of dirty dishes too,” she said, gently punching his shoulder.

You stood up, grabbing the boy’s hand. “You are an angel, here-“ you said, pulling out your pile of tips from earlier in the night. You found $50 in fives and ones and handed it to him. “Thank you for your help tonight - I would’ve paid you more if you hadn’t forced me up on stage, though....”

“You really don’t have to...” he started but you interrupted him.

“You earned it, really. Thanks again, now you two get out of here.” Milly smiled and waved before pulling Ben out the front door with her. You pulled it shut behind them, locking the heavy deadbolt and pulling down the shades on the front windows.

“Just let me drop the tills in the office and we can go out the back, ok?” you asked Dante, not waiting for a response before you opened the registers.

 

Satisfied that your profits were secure, you shoved the metal back door closed, turning your key in the lock.

“Thanks for waiting for me to lock up,” you said, pulling your coat collar up. It was an unseasonably cold night - actually the past few nights had been freezing too - and you couldn’t help but shiver a bit.

“No problem,” he replied, putting an arm around your shoulder as he walked you to your car. “Drive safe, [Y/N].” You clicked your key fob and pulled open the door.

“You too,” you said to him as he turned to walk away. “Oh, Dante?” you called out.

He turned back to you. “I, um, really enjoyed talking with you tonight,” you said, hoping the cold was keeping yet another blush at bay.

“Me too, doll,” he replied, giving you a little two-finger salute. “See you around.”

* * *

 

Dante came back to the bar every Saturday for the next three weeks in a row. You spent hours talking with him whenever he was there, and your affection for the man was growing exponentially.

He hugged you in greeting and goodbye every time he saw you, the embraces lasting longer and longer each time. Your flirting was becoming far more obnoxious; reaching over the bar to grab his hand and hold it in yours, nudging your knee against his leg when you sat next to him, making up excuses to whisper in his ear so you could breathe in the scent of his aftershave and feel his soft silver locks brush against your cheek.

He reciprocated in kind, throwing his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer to him, resting his warm palm on your thigh and purposely talking in low, hushed tones to force you to lean into him. It was pretty gross, at least according to Milly, who said so plainly when you were closing up in the office after you bid Dante goodnight.

“What do you mean, gross? It’s not like we’re sucking face in the middle of the bar...” you said, putting the night’s cash in a deposit bag.

“Not like you wouldn’t love that,” she snorted, straightening your labor laws poster. “But has he even kissed you yet?”

Your face reddened and you purposely didn’t look at her. “No,” you replied in a small voice, sealing the plastic sleeve.

“Well, why don’t you kiss him instead?” Milly goaded.

“It...just hasn’t felt right yet,” you said, trying to get her to drop it. You put the deposit into your bag to take to the bank tomorrow.

She made a noncommittal noise, grabbing her things.

“I’ll be sure to call you as soon as it happens, Mills. Hell, I won’t even wait till we’re done, so prepare yourself for the many gross, sloppy kissing noises you’ll hear when you answer your phone,” you replied sarcastically, ushering her out the office door.

“Ugh, for the love of god, no. You’re lucky I like you or I may have to stop associating with you,” she said, leaving out the back door of the bar.

You rolled your eyes at her retreating form before locking up and heading to your car.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, “Don’t Stop Me Now” is my go-to karaoke song IRL. (Or “Alone” by Heart, because I am an 80s baby.)


	3. The Third Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for Reader to kick some ass!

Dante had said he would be back to the bar the following Saturday, and you counted down the days. It was a slower night, so you were able to just walk around, talking with your customers while Milly manned the bar.

Leaning against a wall, you were glancing at the door in nervous anticipation, waiting for Dante’s tall form to walk through it. It was going to happen tonight. You were going to make the first move and kiss him.

Or, you would have, had the windows at the front of the bar not been smashed, followed by an inhuman screech as a creature straight out of your nightmares clambered over the threshold.

There was a deafening silence as every single pair of eyes in the bar were focused on the creature before the panic set in. The sounds of screaming, smashing bottles and glasses and the crunch of wood falling on the cement floor slowly filtered back into your ears. You were rooted to the spot, people rushing around you, before a particularly hard shove to your shoulder from a panicked patron broke you out of your stupor. You immediately turned and ran behind the bar as the creature let out a deep growl. Milly was gone, and you breathed a silent thanks that she had the wits about her to get out safely. You didn’t know where Jean had gotten to, but if anyone was a survivor, she was.

Reaching below the wells blindly, your fingers finally grasped the object you were searching for - a loaded double barrel Benelli shotgun and an opened box of shells. After opening the chamber briefly to make sure the gun was still loaded, you cautiously peered around the side of the bar, finally getting a good look at the thing.

It was horrifying, a walking flayed skeleton, greenish grey, dried skin hanging limply from its bones. It carried a gigantic scythe and you saw vibrant red on the blade. You quickly ducked back around, pressing your back hard against the wine cooler. _“Don’t panic, don’t panic,”_ you whispered to yourself, knuckles turning white from gripping the gun.

Steeling your courage, you peeked around the edge of the bar again. You saw a man and a woman hiding behind an upturned table and you attempted to get their attention. The panicked woman’s eyes finally met yours and you pointed behind you to the hallway leading into the kitchen and back door. She grabbed the man’s shoulder and shook it, and he looked at you as well. You jabbed your finger backwards once again, as you heard more crunching of glass at the front of the bar, signaling that the creature was bringing in some friends.

“On three,” you mouthed to them before starting to count down on your fingers. When your third finger raised up, they stood, and so did you. Briefly lining up your sight, you pulled the trigger, buckshot ripping through the chest of the first creature. It cried out before its body crumpled to the ground, rapidly crumbling away into ash. Looking over at where the couple was hiding, you saw the flash of their clothes as they ran past you to the back door. Looking back at the front of the bar, you saw that three more of the creatures had entered, followed by an inexplicably even more horrible one.

The new one was like the previous skeletal creatures on steroids. There was a thick hood on its head and you were thankful that you couldn’t see whatever it called a face. It held a huge cleaver-like weapon in each hand, grinding them together, a few sparks flying off of the metal. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing.

 _“I have no idea what is happening right now, but I am DAMN SURE not dying today, and I am DAMN SURE not letting anyone else die today,”_ you thought to yourself, cocking the shotgun. _“I have a sexy older gentleman to make out with later, and you are not fucking this up for me, whatever the fuck you are!”_ You pulled the trigger, downing one of the smaller creatures with another blast of buckshot to its abdomen, quickly ejecting the spent shells and reloading. Looking at the box of shells, you guessed you had about twenty more to work with.

The beast you shot wasn’t quite dead, so you decided to end its ‘life,’ ash curling up around you as you stood over it and blew its head off. The other two smaller creatures charged at you, and you quickly retreated back behind the bar, grabbing and throwing a full bottle of alcohol at the head of one, then quickly ducking down to dodge the scythe swing of the other. You fired a blast at the one you beaned with the expensive bottle of Corsair whiskey and the alcohol ignited, turning the beast to ash.

The big guy was starting to worry you, though, smashing through upturned tables and other debris from the initial rush of panicked people trying to escape, slowly, but menacingly coming for you. Reloading as fast as you could, you crawled behind the bar and shot out the legs of the other smaller creature as it rounded the corner, delivering another shot to its ugly face when it landed on the ground. You choked on the ashes flooding your lungs, desperately trying to figure out how to handle the huge douchebag.

Loading two new shells into the shotgun, you stood and took aim. Just as you were about to pull the trigger, a handle of some kind of clear booze flew over your head, smashing at the legs of the large creature. You whipped your head around to see Milly standing there, the crowbar from your office clutched in one hand and a lighter in the other. Gobsmacked, you stared at her briefly before whipping your head back around to focus on your very large, very ugly problem. Inexplicably, the sound system was still working, and you recognized that “Immigrant Song” had just started playing.

“Die, you fucking piece of shit,” Milly growled, hurling the lighter at the puddle of alcohol on the ground. It ignited and caught some of the rags the creature was wearing on fire, slowing it down a bit, but it was undeterred in its mission to kill you. You took aim and fired both shells, buckshot peppering it’s abdomen and chest, but it still managed to raise those deadly cleavers up and sink them into the bar top where you had been standing a moment before. You landed hard on your shoulder when ducking out of the way, a strangled cry of pain forced from your lips.

Milly was whacking the thing on its back with the crowbar as it struggled to pull its weapons out of the thick wood of the bar, black blood trails being painted on the ceiling.

“Milly, go!” you shouted, gingerly pulling a decently sized shard of a glass bottle out of your shoulder. “Get the fuck out of here!”

“No way boss, not until this fucker’s dead!” she replied, falling back once the creature freed its weapon. One was still stuck in the bar top, abandoned. Tears began to sting at your eyes as you realized that Milly was willing to risk herself for you. You rapidly blinked the tears away; right now was not the time for crying. You were giving her the biggest fucking raise when this was over.

 _“One less weapon, that makes things a little easier,”_ you thought sardonically, watching the smoldering, bleeding creature start to shamble over to Milly. You pulled two more shells out of the box and reloaded the shotgun.

“Hey, fuckhead!” Milly shouted, waving the crowbar like a flag, “Over here you big dumb cocksucker!” Assuming you made it out of here alive, you’d have to congratulate the normally calm and collected woman on her intense cursing. She led the beast back to the front of the bar, light on her feet but with a look of absolute fucking terror on her face.

Milly’s distraction did the job, allowing you to run up behind the monster, press the barrel of the shotgun right at the base of its neck and pull the trigger. It fell to its knees, still alive even with a large chunk of its head missing, so you fired again, taking off more brain matter. It finally fell face first onto the floor, legs twitching. Milly pounded the crowbar into what was left of its head, the thumps of metal on concrete and Robert Plant being the only sounds in the bar. At last the beast was dead, only a pile of muted grey ash remaining.

You reloaded the shotgun once again, counting only twelve remaining shells. You dumped them into the pocket of the cardigan you had on, tossing the empty box to the side.

You turned to face Milly, her tiny frame showing signs of fatigue. “Milly, you need to leave, now. Don’t argue with me, just GO!” you yelled, gently shoving her towards the back door. “Get in your car, start driving and don’t stop.” you demanded, turning back to the front of the bar.

“But [Y/N],” she started, but you interrupted her.

“Didn’t I just say to get the fuck out of here? For fuck’s sake, go!” At last you heard her booted feet slap on the concrete as she ran to the back door. The heavy thud of the metal door closing met your ears and you released the breath you had been holding.

 

You walked back over to the bar and ducked behind it, careful not to cut yourself on the big dumb cocksucker’s still embedded hatchet. The gouge in your arm was still trickling blood slowly, the knees of your jeans were blown out and the skin beneath scraped to shit, and you were covered in sweat and ashes, but you were alive. Alive and ready to kick as much monster ass as you needed to.

‘Need You Tonight’ by INXS started playing softly through the one remaining working speaker in the bar, and you let out a hysterical laugh. The crunching sound of glass and a guttural growl made you clap a hand over your mouth. You could taste ash on your tongue.

Slowly, you stood up, another two scythe-bearers staring you down. Or at least you assumed they were staring you down, since you couldn’t see too well under the ridiculous flour sacks they had over their heads.

_“So slide over here,_

_And give me a moment;_

_Your moves are so raw,_

_I’ve got to let you know._

_I’ve got to let you know -_

_You’re one of my kind...”_

You grinned, raising the shotgun up to eye level. “You ready, motherfuckers?” you snarled, pulling the trigger.

* * *

Seconds, minutes, or hours later - you couldn’t tell - you slumped down against the back side of the bar. Shotgun shells spent, you let the gun fall from your hands to the liquor-soaked floor. You were out of energy. Completely drained. The snarling and growling and screaming had stopped, and for that you were incredibly thankful. Sweat trickled down the back of your neck, hair sticking there uncomfortably, and hot tears rolled down your cheeks. You closed your eyes, trying to calm your ragged breathing, when you heard a voice call out to you.

“[Y/N]!? Are you here? [Y/N]!? Shit, please be okay...” The voice said, and you heard the sound of heavy boots on the concrete floor.

 _“Hey,”_ you thought, _“I think I know that voice...”_ You tried to stand, but there was no strength left to draw from. “Dante?” you said weakly from your seat on the floor.

The sound of the footsteps sped up and you looked up as your silver-haired savior kneeled down in front of you.

“Oh, fuck, [Y/N],” he began, pulling you into the tightest embrace you had ever felt. You tried to hug him back, but all you could manage was to drape your arms limply over his shoulders. You felt your hands touch something cold and metallic on his back, eyes widening when you saw it was the hilt of a gigantic fucking sword.

Before you could ask him where he found that thing, he adjusted you in his grip to look at your face. There was concern etched on his brow, his blue eyes blazing. He was a little dirty, but not nearly as dirty as you, and you self consciously rubbed at your cheek, fingers coming away grey with ash.

He cupped your face in his hands, gazing at you for a moment more before pressing his lips to yours. After the initial shock wore off, you moved your hands to his neck, fingers dipping below the collar of his shirt. He deepened the kiss, carding the fingers of one hand through your filthy hair before it stopped at the back of your sweaty neck, his mouth stealing whatever breath you had left. He kissed you deeply for what felt like a glorious eternity before pulling away, but leaned back in to place one more soft kiss at the corner of your mouth. You couldn’t help but grin when he pulled away, your eyes still closed.

“I can’t believe you did that, I am absolutely disgusting right now,” you lamented, sighing heavily.

“Like I care,” he muttered, tilting your face up to look at him. “You’re alive and I should have been here to protect you. But from the looks of it, you took out a bunch of those fuckers with only a shotgun, which is goddamn impressive. I like you, [Y/N], and I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks.”

You searched his face with your teary eyes before a sob ripped out of you from deep in your lungs. He embraced you again, pulling you tightly to his chest, just letting you cry into his shoulder. He soothingly stroked the back of your head until you had cried it out.

“[Y/N], why didn’t you just run? You didn’t have to stay here,” he asked you, wiping away the last remnants of your tears with his thumbs.

“I-I don’t know. I guess because there were still people in here when those things came through the window and I just couldn’t let anything happen to them. Plus, I was pissed that they wrecked my bar.”

He smiled at you. “You’re fucking stubborn, do you know that?”

“I may have been told that once or twice before,” you paused, rubbing the lapels of his leather coat between your fingers. You looked up into his brilliant blue eyes again. “What... were those things, Dante?”

He didn’t answer right away, searching for the right words. “Would you believe me if I said that a portal to another realm opened, and that those things were demons?” he asked softly, standing to help you up off the floor.

You blinked slowly a few times, eyes not quite focusing. “Now normally,” you began, trying to stop your hands from shaking, “If this was under even remotely normal circumstances, I would laugh in your face and tell you in a not-so-nice way to stop drinking so much, but after the superbly fucked up night I just had, I am 100% willing to believe that.”

He chuckled, steadying you as you stood. “Still sharp as a tack, even after single-handedly taking on a hoard of demons.”

“Oh, I wasn’t entirely alone, Milly helped me take down one of those big dual-wielding meat cleaver dickheads.”

Dante raised his eyebrows. “You two took out an Antenora with just a shotgun? Holy shit, babe,” he praised, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

“Yeah, a shotgun, a big old bottle of booze and a lighter. Milly was pretty good with a crowbar too.”

“Where did you even get a shotgun from?” Dante asked, brushing some of the dust off of your ruined clothes.

“Under the bar. I was robbed about a year ago, so I bought that in case another asshole decided to try his luck,” you replied, losing strength in your legs. Dante caught you with ease, setting you back up on wobbly feet. “Where did _you_ get that giant sword?” you asked him with effort, gazing at it over his shoulder. It was nearly as tall as he was, and you were trying to imagine him swinging it around, separating demon head from demon body.

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later,” he replied, grinning.

 

“Are we going to run into any more of those things outside?” you asked as he slung your arm over his shoulder, his right hand grasping at your waist.

“No, it’s over. I, uh, took care of the rest. I promise,” he said, reassuringly squeezing your waist.

“Is this,” you started, gesturing at the carnage around you, “why you’re here in the first place?”

“Yeah, I was trying my best to stop it before it got too out of hand, but they were using some sort of cloaking, I couldn’t tell where they would be coming from next. That’s why I had to leave suddenly a couple times, I had some, er, business to take care of...” he trailed off, encouraging you to start moving.

The two of you walked towards the back door, and you knew you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help but turn your head to view the carnage in the bar. Your heart sank and you gasped a little, blinking back tears as you saw eight years of hard work completely decimated before you. Dante noticed you dragging your feet and paused, turning your face back to look at him with his free hand. He pressed his forehead to yours before sweetly kissing you again.

“All right,” you said softly, “let’s go.”


	4. The End Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Here's the smut, if anyone is wondering...*
> 
> Thanks so much for sticking with this, I appreciate it!

There was no way you would be able to drive yourself, so you gave Dante the keys to your Jeep, and he helped you into the passenger seat. He noticed the cut on your arm, and the scrapes on your knees as he leaned over to buckle your seatbelt.

“I’ll take care of those when we get to your place, okay?” he said, motioning to your injuries. You nodded weakly, leaning your head back against the headrest.

Besides giving him the occasional direction, you spent the car ride in silence, and after about 15 minutes you pulled into the parking garage below your apartment complex.

After dodging some startled questions from the night guard, you made it to the elevator, leaning heavily on Dante for support. He handed your keys back to you to open your front door, his hand not leaving your side. You stumbled over the threshold, dropping your keys on the sideboard by the door, fumbling for the light switch. Once you found the switch, you beelined towards the couch, plopping your tired body down on it without pause.

Dante made his way into your kitchen and you heard a few cabinets open, followed by the sound of the tap turning on. He returned a moment later with a glass of water which you accepted and downed in nearly one gulp.

“Slow down there,” he said, taking the empty glass from you and placing it on your coffee table. “Take off your sweater,” he said, shrugging out of his coat and draping it over the back of your sofa.

“Ooh, you’re a bit eager, aren’t you?” you replied, starting to push the fabric down off of your shoulders.

He let out a breathy laugh, smirking at you. “I’m just trying to look at your arm, but I’m very glad you’re in better spirits.”

You dropped the ruined cardigan on the floor and Dante gingerly moved your upper arm so he could take a look at the wound. It had stopped bleeding, but tacky drying blood was crusted all down your arm.

“Looks like you’ll be able to get away without stitches for that one, and these-“ he said, brushing gently against your knees, “look like they’re just scratches. Are you bleeding anywhere else?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but once I peel these clothes off, who knows.”

“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” Dante said in a deep voice, leaning in to nuzzle at your neck, peppering it with soft kisses.

“Not eager, huh?” you purred, turning to meet his lips with yours. His lips were so soft, moving gently against yours, and soon you felt his tongue press against the seam of your mouth. You let him in eagerly, and you felt him put his hand on your neck. You slid your tongue alongside his; he tasted like cinnamon and metal. He tilted your head to allow him to gain better access to your mouth, twisting his skilled tongue with yours, and a wanton moan escaped your throat. Dante gasped a bit at the sound, pressing himself more eagerly into the kiss. He unconsciously grabbed at your injured arm and you cried out in pain, breaking apart from him.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ you pressed two fingers against his mouth.

“It’s ok, I know you didn’t mean it. Now I’m mostly just annoyed that that amazing kiss was interrupted,” you said, placing a peck on his lips. “But, before we continue, I would really, _really_ like to take a shower.”

“That’s probably a good idea. I’ll bandage your arm when you’re done, okay?”

“Please,” you said, gingerly pushing yourself up from the couch. You walked down the short hallway towards the bathroom, calling out to Dante over your shoulder. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, ok?”

“Gotcha,” you heard him reply, most likely already there.

* * *

It was the best shower you had ever taken, you were sure. Watching the water turn from red, to rust, to grey and finally to clear, you thoroughly cleaned the grime off of your skin and hair. The water was so hot there was steam coming off of your body once you finallyturned the taps off.

Towel wrapped around your body, you scurried across the hall into your bedroom, gently closing the door behind you. After slipping into a pair of comfortable panties and leggings, you figured propriety be damned, and decided to forego a bra, pulling a soft old t-shirt over your head. You noticed that your upper arm had started oozing blood slowly again, and you made an annoyed noise in the back of your throat. You pushed up your sleeve as to not ruin yet another piece of clothing, pulling your wet hair over the opposite shoulder.

Emerging from your bedroom, you were greeted with the sweetest scent on this earth: coffee. You sighed delightedly, following the scent to the kitchen where Dante was leaning against the counter.

“Hope you don’t mind that I made some coffee,” he said, gingerly taking a sip from a pink mug with a cat on it.

“I’d only mind if you didn’t make me some,” you replied, grabbing another mug from the cabinet above the coffee maker. You groaned, “Oh this smells heavenly,” you replied as you poured the liquid gold into your mug.

“So do you,” Dante replied, pressing his nose into your hair. He kissed your temple, gently steering you over to the kitchen table, where he had your first aid kit out. He flushed the wound on your arm with saline and pressed some gauze to the cut, tearing at the medical tape with his teeth before sticking it to your clean skin.

“Thanks for that, Dante.” you said, patting the gauze down with your hand. He smiled softly at you, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your lips. You broke away before he could deepen it, clearing your throat. “Don’t read into this, but, would you also... like to use the shower?” you said as innocently as you could, raising your mug to sip at your coffee.

He leaned back into the kitchen chair before letting out a booming, infectious laugh. “I get what you’re trying to say, babe. You got extra towels?” he asked, standing. You finished your mug of coffee before showing him to the bathroom. You grabbed a fluffy towel and a washcloth and pushed them into his hands.

 

“Sorry I’ve only got girly scented stuff in there,” you said, leaning against the door frame.

“Don’t apologize, I love women’s bathrooms, they have everything you need and much more that you don’t.”

You let out a giggle, letting your eyes roam over his body. “All right, hot stuff, yell if you need anything.”

You tried to keep your mind occupied while Dante was in your bathroom, but you couldn’t help thinking about how he was naked just feet away from you, hot water running over that tight, muscular - you shook your head, groaning.

You decided to send a text to Milly and Jean, palpable relief washing over you when they both responded near immediately that they were safe and unhurt. Milly asked about the bar, but you deflected, giving some excuse and turning your phone off, not wanting to think about what you would do just yet.

 

You absentmindedly wandered toward your bedroom to plug your phone in to charge. As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted with Dante’s broad, toned back, as he stood in the middle of your room, towel around his hips and his clothing balled in his hands.

You let out a small “oh,” and he immediately turned around. You wished that he hadn’t, because the look he fixed you with sent a tingle straight to your center. Like a magnet to steel you were drawn to him and he immediately looped his arms around your waist. He bent his head down and gave you a tentative kiss, wet strands of his hair brushing against your cheeks. Before he could move away, you grabbed onto his shoulders, keeping him there. Your phone slipped from your hand, thudding on the carpet. His skin was so, so warm and you dipped your head down to mouth at his neck, licking up the droplets of water there.He groaned, tightening his grip on your waist. He pulled you flush to him, feeling the water on his chest soak into your t-shirt. He caught your lips with his again, pressing a bruising kiss into them. He broke the kiss, licking at your bottom lip before he grabbed under your ass, hoisting you up. You wrapped your legs around him and he turned around, walking the few steps over to your bed and gently laying you down on it.He settled between your legs, kissing you again, grinding his hips against you. You let out a soft moan, fisting your hands in his wet hair.

He paused in his ministrations, looking at you with fire in his eyes. “Is this ok?” he asked.

You nodded, lifting your hips up, trying to get the friction back. He obliged you, pushing back against you with force, and you could feel his hardening length through your thin leggings. He kissed down your neck, pausing where it joined at your shoulder to suck a bruise there, soothing over it with his tongue.

“Nngh, Dante...” you breathed, running your nails down his back. “I have... far too many... clothes on,” you said, panting a little.

“You are certainly right about that,” he teased, caressing your breasts on his way to the hem of your t-shirt. You felt his hands then slide up your abdomen, pulling your soft shirt up with them. His lips followed closely behind the hem as it revealed more and more of your skin. He kissed your sternum before pulling the shirt off over your head.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed, leaning back down to place soft kisses over your breasts before capturing your nipple with his lips. You gasped at the contact, arching your back up into his touch. Satisfied with one breast, he moved to the other, using that fantastic mouth of his on your other bud.

He started traveling south again, trailing lazy, wet kisses down your stomach. Once he reached the waistband of your leggings, he looked up at you, his fingers dancing around the elastic. “You sure?” he asked, looking right into your eyes.

“Yes, Dante, please,” you replied, reaching down to place a hand over his. “I... don’t want to think about anything else but you right now.” You looked away from him, not able to take the intensity of his gaze. He pulled himself back up to kiss your lips, silently saying he understood what you meant. You didn’t want to think about your bar, or the destruction, or the screaming; you only wanted to feel his weight above you, his soft lips on yours, his hands on your body, claiming you, being his completely.

He worked his way back down to your leggings, tugging them and your underwear over your hips and placing twin kisses on your hip bones. He kept pulling them down, caressing your legs as he went until you heard a soft rustle as they fell to the floor.

“Hot damn,” Dante said with a breathy sigh, dragging his eyes appreciatively over your nude form, “How are you real?”

He stood over you and finally pushed your fluffy towel down off his hips, baring himself to you as well.

Your eyes widened as you took him in. “Me?” you began, looking at him greedily, eyes darting all over his body. “Look at you, you look like a living romance novel - it’s really unfair,” you said, giggling softly.

“I’m glad we’re both equally unbelievable to each other,” he replied with a laugh. “Scoot up, would you?”

You complied, backing yourself up on the mattress until your head met way more pillows than any single human needs. Dante crawled up the bed after you with a look of pure fucking lust on his face. Your lips parted a little in complete and total arousal, feeling the space between your thighs rapidly moisten.

He covered your body with his, leaning on his forearms on either side of your head. He dipped his head down to kiss you passionately, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. You danced your tongue with his, groaning when he retreated. Your disappointment was short-lived as he caught your bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down gently. A shock went straight to your core, and you moaned into his mouth. He moved to your neck, nipping and sucking and kissing as you reveled in his affections. He shifted his body off you slightly and you felt his hand tracing down your curves before gliding over the top of your thigh. His fingers were torturously close to your sex, and you made a small, frustrated noise.

He captured your lips with his yet again, finally moving his fingers down to stroke over your clit. You gasped at the sudden sensation, grabbing on tightly to his shoulders. He dipped down towards your opening, finding it already drenched, and he smiled into your neck, where he was busying his lips. Dante’s middle finger slid in with ease and you keened, breathing his name. A few thrusts and he added a second finger, pushing them apart as he moved inside you. His thumb found your clit again, pushing down as he spread you open on his fingers. You could feel your orgasm building, more and more rapidly as Dante curled his fingers as deep inside you as he could reach. His thumb pressed harder against your clit, stroking up and down; your climax washed over you in a beautiful haze, Dante whispering in your ear.

“Goddamn, [Y/N], those noises you’re making... fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he said, making your face redden rapidly. He noticed your flushed cheeks and chuckled softly by your ear. “You’re so fucking cute, look at you blush.”

 _“I bet I can make you blush too,”_ you thought to yourself as you felt his fingers glide out of you. Placing your hand on his shoulder, you shoved as hard as you could, making him roll off of you and onto his back.

“My turn,” you said, kissing him deeply as you reached down to wrap your slender fingers around his cock. Dante groaned into your mouth as you established a rhythm, sliding your hand up and down his soft flesh. You figured he was enjoying the attention, considering the noise he was making, but you wanted more from him. Sliding down the bed, you pushed his legs apart with yours as you settled in between them. Still stroking him, you leaned down and licked at his slit, tasting the salty tang of precum on the head. Glancing at him, you licked a long stroke from root to tip, watching him as his eyes fluttered shut, lips parting.

You sucked the head of his cock into your mouth, continuing to stroke the shaft. He moaned, lifting up his hips a bit. You slid your mouth further down his dick, taking in as much as you could, you hand still working the rest of his length. He was letting out little moans and gasps with every suck and you could tell he was trying to keep himself from thrusting into your mouth. Pulling his cock out of your mouth with a wet pop, you kissed and sucked down his shaft, feeling his fingers thread into your hair. You swirled your tongue over the head, using your other hand to gently squeeze his balls, and he let out a ragged breath. Wrapping your lips around him again, you hollowed your cheeks, sucking with as much force as you could, before feeling him yank on your hair, pulling you off his weeping cock. You looked up at him, saliva coating your lips and chin. He looked desperately needy, his cheeks flushed the same scarlet as his dick.

“Now who’s blushing, hot stuff?” you joked, kissing on his hip bones. He breathed out a laugh, reaching out towards you.

“All right, all right, get up here,” he said. You crawled up his body, making sure to rub against his length with as many of your body parts as possible. His eyes searched your face for a moment before placing a gentle kiss on your lips, caressing down your back. He rolled over to place you underneath him, his lips not leaving yours. You felt warm and safe beneath him, reveling in the affection he was showering you with. The fire in your belly was building in intensity again, flames being fed with every sultry kiss pressed to your lips.

“I want you,” you said softly, moving your head to kiss below his ear. “Please, Dante, I-“ he interrupted you with another kiss, pulling your legs up to rest on either side of his hips. Lining himself up, he covered your mouth with his as he started to push in, swallowing your moan. Your body started to accommodate him, stretching wonderfully around his cock, until you felt his hips press against yours, sheathed to the hilt inside you. You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Dante was gazing down at you, a soft smile toying on his lips. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, and instead of deflecting the compliment as you were usually wont to do, you pressed your forehead to his, wiggling your hips a bit to get him to move. The first thrust nearly sent you over the edge, but you grounded yourself by weaving your fingers in his damp hair. He set a gentle pace, pulling out nearly entirely before pushing all the way back in, letting you feel every inch with each thrust.

You arched your back, pushing your head into the pillows. Dante dipped his head down to nuzzle at your neck, picking up the pace enough to make your heart beat faster. You couldn’t help the moans that spilled from your lungs, spurring him on. You dug your heels into his lower back, pulling his face roughly to yours. You kissed him like you had never kissed anyone before, full of emotion and teeth, nipping and licking at his mouth. He moved his hands down to grasp and lift up your hips, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you, his pubic bone rubbing against your clit. Blackness creeped in at the edges of your vision before you cried out, clenching your muscles hard as you peaked. Dante fucked you through your climax, even as your arms and legs felt like jello.

“Ah, [Y/N], I’m...fuck, so...close,” he said, words peppered with grunts of pleasure.

“Ngh...inside,” you replied, panting, still feeling the delightful aftershocks of your orgasm. A few hard thrusts and he stilled, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as he filled you with his release. He sloppily kissed you, breathing heavily.

He gently pulled out of you, laying on his side. He pulled you into him, tucking your head under his chin. You could feel his rapid heartbeat begin to slow beneath the hand you had rested on his chest.

“That was even better than I imagined,” you said softly, letting your eyes flutter closed.

“Better than you imagined?” he repeated, gently stroking your hair. “So, you were thinking about me, were you?”

“Since the first night you walked in. You are a walking wet dream, cowboy,” you replied, smiling.

He chuckled, kissing the top of your head. “I’m flattered.”

You scooted your body up a bit, so you could look at him. A light flush dusted his cheeks from exertion, and you were sure yours matched. After studying his face for a few moments, you pressed your lips to his, gently moving against them, feeling Dante tighten his grip on you. You broke away from him when you felt your eyelids get heavy, your body having finally had enough. You were completely drained now from your ordeal at the bar and the fantastic sex.

"We should probably get some sleep..." you said, snuggling against him. He hummed in acknowledgement, absentmindedly stroking your side.

You thought to yourself, _"I wouldn't mind always falling asleep like this,"_ letting your eyes close and your breathing slow down and level out. You hoped he was thinking the same thing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if I want to do a lil' epilogue for this one?? Leave me a comment if you'd like more :)
> 
> -copper_wasp


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whipped up a little epilogue for you all, with bonus smut! Enjoy!

The next month was a blur. Between clean-up, insurance adjusters, and Dante, you were tired all the time, thought you weren’t upset with the certain type of exhaustion Dante gave you. He had left two weeks after the bar’s destruction, but made it abundantly clear that it wasn’t over between the two of you. After filling you in on as many details about his life and profession that you could handle, he explained that he had another job lined up and he would be back as soon as he could. The big sap even called you nearly every day, and you were equally sappy in the fact that your heartbeat would speed up every time you saw his number show up on your phone.

You were re-painting in the bar when he called you again, around eight in the evening. The new color was a chocolate brown, per Milly’s suggestion (she had recommended something that didn’t look quite as much as blood, like your previous wall color), and you admitted that it was growing on you. You put down the paint roller, wiping your hands on your dirty jeans and answered, putting him on speaker.

“Hey there,” you said, taking a big gulp of water.

“Hello gorgeous,” he answered, voice smooth as silk through the phone. “What are you up to?”

“Just doing some painting. I swear, this should be an endurance sport, because my arms are about to fall off.”

“Hmm, next time I see you, we can try a different type of endurance sport,” he replied, and even though you couldn’t see it, you knew he was wagging his eyebrows.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Such a pervert, Dante.”

“Only for you, [Y/N],” he said, stifling a laugh. “Any news?”

“Yes, actually,” you replied, trying to tame a stray chunk of hair that had loosened from your ponytail. “The insurance company is going to pay out almost the entire policy, so I can finally un-tense my literal entire body.”

“That’s great, I’ll bet you’re happy.”

“I am,” you said, leaning on your palms on the new bar top. “And you’ll get a kick out of this, they’ve officially determined the damage was caused by _‘An Act of God.’_ ”

There was a pregnant pause before you heard Dante burst out laughing. You laughed too, resting your head on your paint-stained hand.

“No fucking way,” he replied between laughs.

“It’s the truth, I swear,” you said, staring at your phone screen, wishing you were talking to him in person. “How’s your job going, by the way?”

“Surprisingly well, actually. I should be finishing up within the next couple of days.”

“That’s quicker than you thought, right?” You couldn’t hide the excitement in your voice, “Does that mean I get to see your sexy ass sooner rather than later?”

He chuckled, “You got it, babe.”

You let out a happy sigh, wanting nothing more than to weave your hands into his soft locks, kissing him gently, feeling him pull you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you. And then after that, you wanted to tear his clothes off and beg him to fuck you until you couldn’t stand.

You looked around the bar during the lull in conversation. You had dipped into your savings to get the reconstruction started as soon as you could. The front windows and door were replaced, new hardwood covered the cracked concrete, and you installed a mammoth new bar, the wood stained a beautiful deep brown.

You had already made up your mind about what you were going to do next. It was a hard decision, but you were sure you had made the right one.

“You still there?” Dante asked, breaking you out of your trance.

“Yeah, yes. Sorry, I was just spacing out a bit. Thinking about what we discussed the other night,” you replied, downing the last of your water.

“Having second thoughts?” he asked.

“No. Definitely not. Just a little nervous,” you said, absentmindedly tracing circles with your index finger on the glossy wood of the bar.

“Okay. I’m here for you if you need me,” Dante said, and you could hear the affection in his voice, even through the phone. “She’ll understand, [Y/N].”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” you asked, picking your phone up off the tabletop.

“Looking forward to it, doll.”

You tapped your phone to end the call, and walked back over to the paint supplies. “You will not defeat me, wall,” you said, picking up the roller once again.

* * *

You were sitting with Milly in the office the next morning, picking out new tables and chairs online. You hadn’t said much to her, nervous energy coursing throughout your body. She turned to look at you, giving some serious side eye. Of course she’d notice your weird body language, she was much more clever than you.

“What’s up with you?” she asked, writing down an item number to come back to later.

You took a deep breath, fingers teasing at the seam of the large envelope you had on the desk in front of you. You looked over at her, pursing your lips a little. “Milly, I have something to tell you.”

She looked at you, eyes widening. “Oh. My. God. You’re pregnant with Silver Fox’s baby?”

“No! Fuck, Milly, no!” you squealed, “I am most definitely on birth control.” Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but chuckle at her.

Stifling her laughter, she turned her head back to face the computer. “Okay, okay, what’s up then, boss lady?” she asked, clicking to the next page in the furniture catalogue. You slid the envelope over to her. Giving you a confused look, she slid her finger under the seal and pulled out the document.

“What the hell is this?” she asked, eyes darting over the page.

“I’m giving you the bar,” you said, a smile playing on your lips.

For the first time in the three years you knew her, she was speechless.

“W-what? You’re giving it to me? Why?” she asked, brows furrowed.

You took another deep breath, turning your eyes down. “I’m moving,” you said in a small voice, not wanting to look at her. “Plus, you’ve been doing more for the bar than I have for awhile now. You also risked your life to save mine, and I owe you. You’ve been an amazing friend and employee, and I want to do this.”

You gathered the courage to look back up at her. She was still holding the paper, trying to blink back tears.

“I want to say no, but I know you won’t listen to me, so I’ll just say - thank you, [Y/N].”

You stood up and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’ll still be here for another month or so, I’ll show you anything else before I go,” you said, releasing her from your embrace. “Plus, I’ll only be a few hours away, so you’ll never know when I may drop by to check on you.”

She wiped at her eyes, smiling broadly at you. “Ben’s going to shit himself,” she said.

You barked out a laugh, “Oh, I’m sure he will. Now, come on, let’s make the very exciting choice between black tables or white tables.”

* * *

You stepped out of the elevator and started walking to your apartment. Digging for your keys in your bag, you didn’t notice your guest until you nearly bowled him over. Looking up from your tote, you saw your favorite silver-haired demon hunter standing by your door.

“Dante? What are you doing here?” you asked, dropping your bag and throwing your arms around his neck. He leaned down and kissed you eagerly, cupping your face in his hands.

“Finished up even earlier than I thought,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Surprise?”

“I normally hate surprises, but I’ll definitely take this one,” you replied, pressing your forehead into his shoulder. You released him from your enthusiastic grasp, grabbing your bag off the floor. You produced your keys at last, clicking the lock open and stepping over the threshold. You turned the lights on, toeing out of your boots and dropping your bag on the floor again.

Before you could turn around, you felt Dante slide up behind you, nuzzling at your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist. He placed soft kisses on your skin, migrating down until he met the junction of your neck and shoulder, sucking gently.

“Well, that was quick,” you mumbled with a smirk, as you reached over your head to grab at his hair.

You felt him chuckle against your skin, hands moving down to rest on your hips, pressing his crotch against your ass. “I haven’t seen you in almost a month, did you really expect me to keep my hands to myself?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t,” you replied, turning around in his grasp to face him. You kissed him hard, pressing as much of your body against him as you could. He made a startled noise, not expecting your fervor, but responded in kind, snaking his tongue into your mouth, fully exploring every inch he could.

You pushed him backwards until his calves met the edge of the couch, and with one final push he fell back onto it. You immediately straddled him, resuming your bruising kisses, thighs straining against the tight denim of your jeans. He grabbed your rear with both hands, grinding it down on top of him, his mouth thoroughly occupied with your insistent tongue. Your nails scratched at his scalp, and you felt him groan into your mouth. Releasing him from the kiss, you raised an eyebrow at him, his lips reddened and puffy, with a flush dusting his cheeks.

“Fuck, babe, what’s gotten into you?” he asked as you leaned in to place wet kisses down his neck. “I’m not complaining, but goddamn.”

“Less talking, more taking your clothes off,” you teased, leaning back to pull up on the hem of his shirt.

He laughed, lifting his arms so you could fully divest him of the garment, tossing it behind you. You drug your hands down his front, feeling every muscle flex on your way down. “I will never get tired of this view,” you said, eyes roving hungrily over his bare chest.

“Now who’s talking too much?” he asked before capturing your mouth with his once again. He grabbed the bottom of your t-shirt, yanking it up with force. You broke apart from him only to allow him to pull your shirt off over your head. He immediately buried his head in your cleavage, trailing his hands up and down your spine. His fingers toyed with the clasp of your bra before freeing your breasts from their lace prison. He soothed his fingers over the marks left by the underwire, kissing at your sternum. Looking up at you with a look of pure sex, he caressed your breasts, placing gentle kisses on the tops of them before sucking a bruise. You moaned, fisting your hands in his hair, as he moved down to lavish some attention on your hardened nipples.

“Dante...” you breathed, pulling on his hair. He hummed with pleasure, mouth still occupied with your breasts, and the vibration went straight to your center. He moved his lips up to your neck, grasping some flesh in between his teeth and gently biting down. Your hips bucked inadvertently, rubbing yourself hard against his lap and he groaned, grabbing at your ass again.

“These have gotta come off,” he said, pulling at the button of your jeans. You chuckled, standing up to pull your jeans down. You kicked them off, slowly trailing your thumbs beneath the elastic of your underwear, staring at your lover. Dante had his hips lifted up, halfway through taking his own pants off, along with his boxers. Once he removed the offending garments, he fell back onto the sofa, fisting his cock, staring right back at you. He lazily stroked himself, lips parted slightly as he looked at you.

“You gonna keep going, or are you just gonna tease me?” he asked, running his unoccupied hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead.

You hummed, pulling your waistband down just a little, Dante’s eyes glued to your hands. “You know I do love teasing you,” you began, tugging the lace down another half-inch, “but if you don’t fuck me senseless in the next minute I’m going to lose my mind.” You pulled down your panties, letting them drop to your ankles before stepping out of them.

He let out a low whistle, raising his hand and beckoning you over to him. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you straddled him again, pressing your sex against his cock, proudly standing at attention. You let out a ragged breath, pressing your lips against his desperately. You released him, dragging your tongue across his bottom lip, and he let out a harsh groan. You rocked your hips against him, feeling wetness spread between your thighs. He drug his nails down your back and you arched into him; he sunk his teeth into your shoulder and you cried out, squeezing your thighs against his.

Dante then grabbed your hips, helping to lift you up and he lined his cock up with your entrance. You sank down on him, inch by glorious inch, until you were flush against him. You pressed your forehead to his, feeling your panting breaths intermingling with his, warmth dusting your lips and chin. You opened your eyes, meeting his stunning blues, and you canted your head to kiss him. You started moving your hips, and he groaned into your mouth, insistently pressing his lips to yours. His hands were warm on your lower back, directing your hips as you rode him. The fire was catching in your belly, moaning breathlessly with every tilt of your hips, every sloppy kiss pressed against your sweaty skin pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You knew Dante was getting close, as his grip on your hips tightened, lifting his body up to meet your rocking with hard thrusts. His cock was hitting all the right spots inside you, his sizable girth rubbing against your walls beautifully.

“Ahh, fuck... Dante, I’m...so fucking close...” you moaned between breaths, you hands squeezing at his hips. He moved one of his hands down your sweaty stomach, pressing his thumb hard against your clit, swirling circles over your bundle of nerves.

“Come for me, beautiful,” he said, mouth next to your ear, kissing just below your earlobe. A few more hard swirls on your clit and you tumbled over the edge, crying out and clenching your inner muscles against him. His breath hitched in his throat, and he sped up his pace, chasing his own release as you were still riding out your climax. A groan sounded from deep in his throat as he painted your insides with his release. You grabbed his face in your hands and pressed a messy kiss to his lips, feeling his dick twitch inside you. Coming down from your mutual highs, he relaxed back into the sofa, pulling you to his chest, cock still comfortably inside.

He stroked your hair, running the fingers of his other hand up and down your spine.

“Maybe I should go away more often, if this is what I get to come back to,” he said, taking a deep breath.

You tightened your arms around his neck, shaking your head. “No, no way. I missed you too much to ever agree to that.”

“Well,” he said, kissing your cheek, “once you’re living with me, we can do this whenever we want.”

You sighed contentedly, pulling back to look at him; he smiled at you, running the back of his hand down your cheek before sweetly kissing you. You went to stand, removing him from you, and you stretched out, raising your arms over your head.

“Come on, hot stuff, let’s get a shower,” you said, winking at him.

* * *

A month later, you had an emotional goodbye with Milly and the rest of your (former) staff. There were tears, embraces, and lots and lots of alcohol. You helped Milly christen the new and improved Sharpshooter with some cheap bottles of champagne, which you smashed on the pavement outside of the bar.

Milly also yelled at Dante no less than three times about how he was “stealing you from her.” He sheepishly apologized each time, and she would start crying again and give him a hug, whispering something in his ear. You were pretty sure you heard “better not hurt her” and “kill you dead, Silver Fox,” and he looked genuinely scared of your pint-sized friend.

At the end of the night, you were red-faced with drunkenness, teary eyes struggling to focus. Dante had to practically carry you back into your apartment after the Uber dropped you off, and he wasn’t exactly sober either. You and he both collapsed in your bed fully clothed and slept deeply into the next morning.

* * *

You were cleaning your shotgun in the basement when you heard the phone ring. The man working next to you at the workbench met your eyes, gesturing with his head towards the stairs. You smiled at him, bounding up the rickety wood as fast as you could.

Reaching the desk, you hovered your hand over the receiver for a brief moment before lifting it to your ear.

“Devil May Cry,” you answered in as professional a manner as you could, running a hand through your hair. “Password?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again, readers for sticking with this story! I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you all enjoyed reading!
> 
> (I went back and forth a couple times with how I wanted to end this, but went with the romance option... because I am a fucking sap.)
> 
>  
> 
> I also have just started a Twitter account specifically for this handle, I’m thinking about doing requests and asks, so if you’d like to give me a follow, find me @copper_wasp_ !! I will be glad to give you a follow back!


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